Why do this? It’s sort of stupid. That said, I suspect most people who read this already get it. But I understand the
majority must think this is just dumb. If I wanted to do something hard, why not try the LA Freeway again?
Or run an ultramarathon? Why go up and down the same little hill, regardless of how great a climb Flagstaff is?
I ran my one and only 100-miler because I hung out with the wrong crowd and eventually wanted to know if I
could finish one. It’s the same here. I’d been aware of “Everesting” for quite some time because of some friends.
I wondered if I could do it. I put it on my bucket list to try eventually, and this was that eventually.
My previous elevation record was 23,931 vertical feet at the Running Up For Air near Salt Lake City in 2019.
It was in February, and the course was completely covered in snow. You might think the snow would make this
feat harder, but for me, the snow was key. It cushioned the descent and saved my knees. On dry ground, these
days, my limit is 10,000 feet of descending. The bike was my only option, as the descents are free. On foot, the
descents sometimes are as hard as the ascents. Then, I sort of disdained doing laps on something to “Everest.”
One friend told me that I had to do it that way to be a true Everest. I poo poo-ed that idea and vowed to do my
own thing, riding all the great climbs around Boulder instead. That was ignorance talking. I’ve made that mistake
before. I didn’t know what I was talking about. Riding around would be cool, but that would be much harder.
This was going to be at my very limit, so I needed to make it as easy as possible.
Picking the right hill is key, and I don’t know that I nailed it, but I’m happy with my choice. I tried Super Gross
and did 15,000 vertical feet. I concluded it was too steep, too muscularly-intensive, and the climbs were so long.
I needed more frequent breaks and a gentler angle. Of course, if you get the angle too gentle, you’re going to be
doing a giant amount of mileage. This is where hiking would be so much better…except for the descending.
Flagstaff is quite steep for the first 300 vertical feet, but then it is such a nice angle. Plus, the road is cool with
some nice switchbacks and great views. And it is an absolute gas to descend!
But the real key to doing laps on one hill is that I could stash all the food and water I’d need at the base. If I were going to make it, I needed to stay on top of water, food, and electrolytes— something I’m not known for. For this ride, I set a timer on my phone to go off every 10 minutes to remind myself to take a drink. After each lap, I’d get off my bike, refill my bottle, refill a tiny snack in my jersey pocket, then sit for a bit and eat and rest. At first, these stops were short, but sometimes I took a nice break. I couldn’t delay too long, though, since my rate of climbing didn’t give me enough cushion to rest more.
I got up at 1 a.m. and drove to the Gregory Canyon Trailhead. I planned to ride my gravel bike in the dark since I had a dynamo hub (thanks to Ryan Franz), which powered an LED light. When it got light, I’d switch to my road bike. At the trailhead, I noticed that the cable connecting my hub to my light was cut. How stupid of me not to check this. Our garage has been a mess with the remodeling we're doing, and I think all the movement of my bikes must have broken it. I sent my mechanic (Ryan Franz) an email at 1:50 a.m.: “Emergency repair needed!” For some reason, I stuck with the gravel bike in the dark. I think I wanted to change body positions a bit, and maybe that would help. I had brought a headlamp just in case, so I rode with my headlamp but had no real light or flasher. Thankfully, not a single car passed me on my first six laps.
On my first or second lap, I passed an ultrarunner (I assumed because of the running pack) running down the road. When I passed her again, on my way down, I was shocked at the brightness of the light she had pointing backward. There is no chance you'd hit her, since you have to run away from the light. I was nearly blinded coming by her. This was much brighter than a car headlight. I'd never seen anything like it.
On a couple of these early laps, I looked above me on the slope and saw two red eyes watching me. It was too dark to tell what kind of animal it was, but I like to think it was a mountain lion. I wondered if it would pounce upon me from above and, if it did, would I stand a chance of fending it off? In a fair fight, I'm confident I could take a lion, but with a dirty trick sneak attack...I wasn't so sure. So, I kept a watch for those beady eyes.
Descending on my third lap, my headlamp blinked and then went into the lowest power. It was about to die. I made it back to the car before it completely died. There, I had a power brick and figured to just plug it into the brick and, with a long cable, put the brick in my jersey pocket and keep riding. Except that the headlamp will not turn on when it is charging! I sat in my car for 40 minutes while it charged to one bar. I then made sure to ride in the lowest setting, and it got to daylight.
I did all of these dark laps without a helmet since it was a pain to have the headlamp and helmet on my head. It worked, but it bugged me. I tried to be cautious on the descent, knowing that a crash without a helmet…could be catastrophic.
Once it got light out, I noticed a guy setting up a toprope on Capstan Rock. He worked on self-belay for a couple of laps. On my third time by, he was packing up, and I asked, "How'd it go?" He said he couldn't get the crux. I asked how hard and he said, "5.10/V1". I told him I was a climber, and he hiked up the hill to talk more with me as I wrapped around the rock. He asked my name (his was Tristan Brewer), and when I responded, he said, "I know of you!" He mentioned the Yellow Spur, I think, and specifically my Flagstaff/Monkey Traverse linkups. That was cool.
Also, on an early lap, I found four young people playing soccer across the entire road. So strange, but they were nice and just kicking the ball back and forth between them. I rode through the group and said to the girl on the downhill side, "You're the key person. If that ball gets by you, it's going a long way." I regretted not taking a photo of them, and they were gone by the time I descended.
Coming down on my sixth lap, I spotted Sheri parked at Panorama Point and called out, “I’ll be right back. Switching bikes.” At the car, I checked my email and saw that Ryan Franz responded. He said, “Just seeing this (about my broken cable) now. It will be fixed before tonight.” So cool. So, I didn’t need to worry about the night riding. Also, it put additional pressure on me not to quit when it got dark. If he’s going to do this for me, I better ride the dang bike.
Ben Perdue rode up, and he joined me for lap seven. We had to stop at Sheri's car, though, so that I could eat one of the breakfast burritos she brought me. I ate the second one on lap nine and finished the hashbrowns on lap ten. I was trying not to eat too much at a time, but to eat every lap and a bit while riding too.
Coming down on lap 9, I passed Danny and The Little Monster ascending near the top. They swung around and descended after me. After my restock at the car, they rode lap ten with me. Little did we know that, just as we started up the hill, Ryan Franz arrived and saw us leave. He went up to my vehicle and fixed the broken wire, and was gone before we got back down. A couple of laps later, while getting water out of the bike, I looked at my hub and thought, “What the?! The cable doesn’t look broken now...” Then I realized what had to have happened. I checked my phone and saw the email from Ryan. That is so incredibly cool! On his lunch break, he comes out to fix me up.
Danny and Ryan took off after lap ten, and then my phone died. I plugged it into my car port and did a lap, and the phone was still dead. Bummer. I tried an inverter and it did charge the phone, but only to 25% in the time it took me to do one lap. I used it more frugally after that. Without my phone, Sheri couldn't find me or communicate with me. It was not a big deal but a minor annoyance.
Lap 11 was tough. I had my first and only doubts here. Lap 12 was tough, too. I think because it was sunny and the heat sapped me. I tried to remind myself that on ultra-long adventures, I go through highs and lows. Sure enough, I got stronger after that and felt really good on lap 15.
On lap 16, I got a huge psychological boost from Colin, Emma, and their baby Orion showing up at Panorama Point. Colin gave me electrolytes and cold water. Orion is so cute -- already burning bright. Then, while talking to these three, Haley pulls in. She had driven out (after doing Longs, of course), solely to give me a Coke and offer her encouragement. It's so cool that these four just came out to give me a boost. Energized, I moved on.
At my car after lap 16, Frozone rode up with his shirt all unbuttoned, a la Tony (and later John Alcorn). All the cool guys dress like this. I couldn't pull that off. He rode lap 17 with me, after he'd already done a scramble. Then he went scrambling again and would later return. I wasn't the only one recreating all day. It rained on us descending, but it was just a drizzle and felt good. I rode lap 18 alone, and it was really blustery. It made the lap harder, riding into a headwind, but it was just this one lap.
On lap 19, I stopped at Panorama Point because Sheri brought me a Starbucks Frappuccino and a cheese danish. I ate the entire Danish, but it would take three laps to finish the frap. Once I hit 19,035 feet, I thought to myself, “Sweet! Only 10,000 feet to go.” And I thought, “What the heck am I saying? 10,000 feet! That’s like riding Haleakala!”
When I came down off of lap 19, I saw John Alcorn, Maury, and Rush waiting to ride with me. I made a quick turnaround at the car, knowing they were waiting on me. We headed up, chatting away. I heard from Danny that John was coming, and Rush said he’d be out for a lap at some point, but Maury was a surprise. He said, “I needed to come out and see what this craziness looks like.” It didn’t look crazy. Just a group of friends casually riding up Flagstaff. It was so nice to have buddies for these laps. Good conversations helped pass the vertical effort nicely. It was cool riding a lap with the two fastest Diamond soloists! Maury took the record from Dean Potter, and then John took it from Maury. It is so cool counting these superstars as my friends. Just past the Flagstaff House, former Tour de Flatirons champion David Kennedy rode up to us. It was so cool to have so much support from so many friends.
I ripped the descent, trying to show these studs that even though I couldn’t go uphill very fast, I had some cycling skills. Stupid ego. I went pretty hard and even passed a car on the inside on a switchback. I used to pass cars all the time on the descent, but that’s generally ultra aggressive, not smart, and probably drivers thought I was a dick. But this pass was legit. Throughout the entire descent, I heard a rider on my tail, and I couldn't shake him. I figured it was John Alcorn based on the sound of his hub, but I knew he wasn’t wearing a helmet. That’s pretty risky. I wouldn’t do that. But, then again, he’s soloed the Diamond. His level of acceptable risk and mine are not the same. I turned up Gregory Canyon Road at speed and a bit wide, but John went wider and sprinted up the road to the car. Nice. We shared the joy of ripping that descent.
Moments after we got to my car, Sheri arrived with a Cosmo’s pizza. Rush, John, and David had to go, but Maury was up for another lap. Lap 21.
Maury descended Chapman, and I rode down alone. I took a longish break at the car, giving kudos to my friends’ Strava activities about riding with me. And then, up rode Frozone and Pilot Bill. Sweet. That was just the kick I needed to get back on the bike. I was off the back a bit on lap 22, but still turning the pedals. When we turned onto the Gregory Canyon Road after descending, I could see a rider up the road ready to go. I was thinking it must be Stefan because I was expecting him at one point, but it was the Little Monster back for more laps. Sweet. Frozone had to go, but Bill and Monster did lap 23 with me. On the way down, we screamed by Stefan (riding a single speed!) and another rider as they ascended. Of course, they immediately turned around and descended. They were out there to help me. That’s so cool
Back at the car, I found out the other rider was Hammerin’ Hank Aaron Lucas. This guy is the classic Boulder dad crusher. He does everything at what would be an elite level anywhere else besides Boulder. Of course, he climbs 5.12. I mean, isn’t that the entry grade around here? And he’s super strong on the bike. And Stefan… nothing needs to be said there. It was dark now, and we all rode with lights. Ryan’s light mount broke or something, but this guy doesn’t miss a beat. He went back to his car and came back a minute later with the light taped to his bars. And it was seriously bright. What a great group for lap 24. At the turn-around, we stopped briefly so that I could put on my helmet. I rode up each time without my helmet on since wearing it all day would have hurt my head. Stefan commented on how the weather was perfect and what a great night to be riding. In fact, the weather was nearly perfect all day. Except for those few laps in the middle, where the sun beat down, it was ideal. The cloud cover really helped.
Stefan had to go after one lap, as he had work obligations early the next morning. If he hadn’t, I’m sure he would have ridden with me to the finish, no matter what that time was. I was pleasantly surprised that Aaron and Ryan were in for another lap. That would be Ryan’s third lap in a row and fourth overall. So that was lap 25. I thought I’d be riding four laps alone and in the dark, but it was now down to three.
Once down, Aaron took off, and Ryan headed to his car to pack up, I assumed, but he came back with his bike, saying, “I’ll ride the steep part with you.” Of course, he did the entire lap. But he also had to work the next day, and all good things must come to an end. At the end of lap 26, I hugged and thanked him. What great friends I have. I hope I don’t take them for granted. I often think about how lucky I am, but on a day like today… I get emotional.
I took a break in the car. Two laps to go. My phone had died on the previous lap but was now recharged. I noticed a text from Sheri asking what lap I was on. She sent that at 8:46 p.m. I responded at 11:15 p.m. I responded, but she was sleeping. I had 2.5 hours to get my last two laps done in under 24 hours. I'd make it unless something went wrong. I had feared the onset of cramps all day long, but it never happened. Derek gave me salt tablets, and I'd taken maybe ten of them in the last 20 hours. Eating and drinking a ton helped too. The last couple of descents were chilly, so I took a shell with me for the final two laps.
Lap 27 went fine, but putting on my shell was a bit of a challenge. When my wheel stops moving, my light stops shining. In complete darkness, it's tough to even clip into my pedals as I can't see them. It took me a while to realize my jacket was inside out. I couldn't use my phone as a light because I needed my hands. Yes, this is an argument for riding with a headlamp as well. On my final descent, I was reminding myself not to make any mistakes. The day had gone so perfectly. I had no mechanical issues (besides the wire fixed by Ryan). I didn't even have to add air in my tires. I did lube my road bike once. Police lights were flashing at the lot just above the Flagstaff House...maybe just to move along the people parked there. I think you can't park overnight there.
I did a bit of extra vertical on laps 27 and 28 because I couldn't see my overall vertical any longer. When I switched my bike computer over from my road bike to my gravel bike, I inadvertently took a split. Afterwards, I could only see the vertical for the split, which was zero. There must have been a way to see the total vertical, but it wasn't on any of my screens, and I didn't want to mess with it. I knew I was right around 21,800 feet when I took the split, so I needed at least 7,200 on the new display. I did 7,400 just to be sure.
Shout out to the Coros bike computer, by the way. Coros is known for its incredibly long battery life on its watches, but this bike computer is another level. You never need to charge it. What? You say. This bike computer is solar powered, and the panel doesn't seem to take up any display space. Maybe the display itself is a solar panel. I was a little worried that it would die on me since I was doing so much of this ride in the dark, but no. I've had this computer for a year. I've charged it once. It's magic.
I got home, showered, and crawled into bed just past 2 a.m., after being up for 25 hours. The next morning, Sheri and I went out to breakfast, and it was delicious! But, I ate/drank so much that I don’t think I ran a calorie deficit. I did so well with fueling that I robbed myself of pigging out! But I’ll trade that for not cramping any day. I’m shocked that I haven’t cramped at all. Frequently, the cramps hit me after I’m done with an adventure. It’s a lesson we’ve all learned many times and frequently need to relearn. But for a lot of adventures, running a huge calorie deficit can’t be avoided. But here, with a literal carload of food and water available every hour, there is no excuse not to do things right. Strava says I burned over 10,000 calories doing this. I haven't added up all that I ate and drank, but it might be close to that.
I think most cool feats have come about because someone thought, “I wonder if I could…”
My buddy Hans Florine has a motto and even a website for it. I liked it so much that each semester I urge my students to:
